


Pensieve

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Dimensions, Angst, Devil!Tom, Humor, M/M, Pining, Possessive Tom, Romance, Sadness, Slytherin!Harry, Tom is the Minister of Magic, Voldy is doing the corrupting, angel!Harry, angry speeches, corrupted!Harry, diary!Tom, gullible!Tom, lecture on the Dark Arts, paranoid!Harry, reflection!Tom, shit just got real, timetravelling!Harry, timetravelling!Voldy, wand jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots, moments-in-a-life, memories, thoughts, and alternate dimensions. -never forget- HPTR</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I don't nose

**Author's Note:**

> __  
> Wooo! I added waaaay more on the bottom so enjoy! And check out Freefall by ladyoflilacs and Reflections by LordVoldemort. Thanking you lovely people from the Voldemort/Harry group on Facebook and the HarryMort forum! And, ahem, I decided to split this fic into smaller bits. DON'T KILL ME!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Voldemort gets a nose. And gloats.

_{never forget}_

He'd told- more like _ordered_ \- Voldemort to get a nose. And by Merlin, what a _good-looking_ nose it was. Harry could just look at it all day.

"Snape must be green with envy." Harry mused idly, whilst studying the shocking new additions on Voldemort's- _Tom's_ face.

"A fine looking nose," Tom began with a self dignified pose and his aforementioned up nose in the air "for a fine-looking man."

"You're such a ponce, Tom." Harry teased him with a mischievous smirk.

 


	2. who told you elves didn't exist?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tom is a bit gullible.

"Magical time-travelling elves." Harry deadpanned.

A moment of silence, then-

"You serious?" Tom spoke with an incredulous air.

Another moment of silence.

"Of course not you dumb twat!"

Harry sighed and shook his head. Sometimes, it amazed him how _gullible_  Tom really was, really.

It was something he was  _definitely_ going to take advantage of. After all, the Sorting Hat  _had_  implied that Harry was a Slytherin at heart, didn't it? Grinning maniacally, and disturbing a musing Tom, who was muttering under his breath something about elves, Harry set to work on the finishing touches of his  _plan_.


	3. translation: Tom has no virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom doesn't like waiting.

"Patience is a virtue, Harry dear, one I have no intention in indulging in." Tom stated with a lecherous leer. Harry sighed, knowing that his backside would be hurting like hell once Tom was done with it. Tom could be  _so_  impatient sometimes. And rough. Did he mention _rough_?


	4. say it isn't true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mirror!Harry and reflection!Tom

"And what," Harry whispered despondently, and Tom felt his heart ache deeply, "is the point of me staying? I am your reflection, Tom. Doomed to fade away once you leave, once you grow tired of waiting for something that can never be." Tom pressed his hands to the cold, unforgiving glass and wished and  _wished_  and  **failed**. It was _true_ , Tom thought wretchedly, he was tired of waiting and wishing all the time. Yearning, _loving_ , and failing.

Harry was only a reflection, after all. A mirror image of Tom, changed somewhat, but still a part of _Tom._ He could not spend the rest of his days withering away in front of a mirror, all for a boy who, once, could have been blood and flesh and tears. The boy with a cursed lightning-shaped scar, a heartbreaking smile and killing curse eyes.


	5. a pleasant sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Harry declare vows.

"Then it's only fair that I, Harry, shall give you piece of Hell. Wicked and decadent in pleasure, governed by Chaos and an Angel with torn and withered wings, hidden under a mask of the Devil. And who am I but Satan himself?"

Harry and Tom exchange pieces of their soul.

Heaven for Hell. Harry and Tom, respectively.


	6. a damned curse

"And when the world is thrown into Chaos,“ Harry whispered softly to an ashen-faced Voldemort, "and the fires of Hell burn the world to dust, you shall remember me."

And eventually, years later, Voldemort remembered. With crystal-clear clarity. And he cursed the boy with the eyes of death and smoldering emerald fire.


	7. schooled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry thinks they should get a room. Fast.

"So," Tom began with a lecherous grin, folding his arms over his bare chest "has the pupil finally surpassed the master?"

"No," Harry spoke huskily, knowing that Tom still took his breath away at the slightest article of clothing shed "not yet. Would you like me to try though?"

"Oh yes." Tom's gaze only heated up even further. "So why don't  _you_ start first, Harry?"


	8. branded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a poem

_Disgusting, irreproachable human desires._

_Whispered promises,_

_remaining unfulfilled._

_That soft and smooth,_

_unerring cadence._

_Languorous touch,_

_Scorching desire imprinted on bare skin,_

_A brand,_

_a mark,_

_of ownership._

_Wilting, desire, punishable wrongs,_

_Disobedient insolence._

_Incoherent words, meaningless babble,_

_sweet nothings,_

_hushed meanings._

_Dangerous,_

_deadly,_

_siren song._

_Ghosts of our pasts._

"I'm perfection, darling. In the flesh... and all yours."


	9. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is paranoid.

"I don't know why you're being so paranoid, so... unsettled. Disturbed."

"Ack- You are _not_ paranoid if the bad guys  _really are_  out to get you. Besides, you didn't see the way he  _looked_  at me."

 


	10. wibbly-wobbly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry accidentally almost destroys the universe and succeeds in creating a paradox. Voldemort only smirks.

"Do you know what you've done, you stupid child? You've created a whole new temporal reality- an  _altered dimension_! There's no going back know! Congratulations Harry James Potter, you've just fucked up the universe."

"It wasn't me! I swear- it was him!"

Harry pointed an accusing finger towards Voldemort. His only response was to raise an eyebrow. And smirk.

"See! He admits it! Ha! You can't pin the blame on me now!"

The smirk widened.


	11. subtlety is not your forte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom likes it when Harry schemes.

"In any case," Harry interjected, raising an eyebrow at the unusually amused Dark Lord "if you  _really_  want to set people into a panic- which I don't doubt that you'll do, being the slithery bastard that you  _truly are_ \- then you'd set me up as being your consort, or Equal, introducing me as Lord Trodmelov. People will be hopping left and right when they find out the connection between you and I."

Harry licked his lips. "So, you want to go perform  _consort-like_ duties?"

Tom actually _snorted_ , then, quick as a flash, started dragging Harry toward his bed-chambers.


	12. let's not go there.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort insinuates and Harry squirms.

“... and speaking of wands...” Harry trailed off, and Voldemort knew that it was his cue to talk. He would be having fun with _this_.

"My wand? 10 inches." He said, watching Harry's face take on a confused expression.

"I thought it was -"

"Not that wand." Voldemort said, smirking. Harry blushed and squirmed in his seat, avoiding the older man's ruby-red eyes, while contemplating his _situation_. His Inner Pervert couldn’t have chosen a worse time to pipe up, especially when it informed him that _ten_ inches was _bloody impressive_. And that not many men could claim to boast that much.

Harry squirmed again.


	13. Voldemort's inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort is, like, the Devil. No seriously.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” Voldemort leaned against the doorway leisurely, sporting a devilish smirk.

“Ha-ha, considering you’re like, the Devil himself.”

“Why Harry, such a high compliment from you. I am sincerely flattered.”

“Shove your sincerity where the sun doesn’t shine, Tom.”

“Nuh-uh. Naughty boy. Respect your elders, especially ones old enough to be your grandfather.”

“…Ugh.” Harry shuddered. “Not a prospect that I delight in entertaining, or even thinking of. I’d like to think of you as younger; much, _much_ younger than you actually are, thank-you-very-much.”

“I like to think myself much younger too. But alas, Harry, it is much easier to think of you as older than myself as younger. I am far too wise to suit my appearance.”

“Right.” Harry retorted dryly. Living with Voldemort was simply too much to bear with at times. The man was, oddly enough, very annoying, frequently delighting in irritating Harry to a breaking point.


	14. story of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is sentimental. Tom approves.

And years later, Harry would reminisce on how it all started. It began with a boy, and a wish. Harry couldn’t help but thank Dumbledore for giving him the best gift of all: his Tom.

“You can be so stupidly sentimental sometimes.” Tom remarked when Harry had voiced his thoughts.

“Aah,” Harry said with a cheeky grin “but that’s exactly why you love me, _dear._ ”

“Oh no,” Tom had answered Harry with a wicked glint in his eyes “that’s not why. You see, there’s the most _interesting_ thing you do with your tongue-“

He was forcefully interrupted by the aforementioned tongue snaking its way through Tom’s own. “I’ll show you what else I can do with my tongue.” Harry whispered huskily in the shell of Tom’s ear, after pulling back from the heated kiss.

They grinned at each-other, before Tom apparated both them directly on top of their bed.

Harry luxuriated on top of the black stain sheets. “Aaah…” He sighed. “This is the life…”

“No, Harry dear, _this is_ …” 


	15. the Dark Lady grips tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed lecture on the Dark Arts

“The Dark Arts are not only a magical affiliation or a form of magic, foolish child, they are a lifestyle unto their own. It is a powerful and destructive branch of magic that requires control, and above that, passion. If you do not control the Dark Arts they control you. This is the reason why _**they** _ fear it so. You have much to learn of the Dark Ways, Harry Potter, and I am here to teach you. Abstain from using it shall only cause you pain, as it is your magic itself withering away from desire to practice that which you have forbid it. The only way to rid yourself of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for that which it has forbidden itself.”


	16. they hurt your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort reclaim's Harry's destiny.

“They would have made you a prince of pureblood royalty, cast no aspersions on your ability to lead them in this time of war. You have been wronged deeply, my child. He had no business in sending you to live you those disgusting, filthy Muggles,” he cooed to the boy, caressing his rosy cheeks with one sharp-fingered hand. “They would raise you above all others, lavish you with gifts and tokens and wealth befitting a king. You be loved, worshipped, revered above all. You have been taken from nothing and moulded into a good little boy soldier. Well, no more!” He gripped his face tightly, nails digging into his cheeks and the boy suppressed a flinch.

“Good boy. So beautiful, so brave.” Voldemort was gentle, speaking sweet words of nothing. After all, nothing but the best for his Horcrux, his soul. Harry closed his eyes and smiled.

“Albus Dumbledore shall rue the day he took you from me. You are mine, now. Yes… _mine_.”


	17. committed against your person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort would have Harry remember.

“They would have you cast away your wand and cloak and make it seem as though you never needed it in the first place, thinking nothing of it, preaching their soiled and misbegotten ways for all the world to hear. But the thing is, Mother Magic has a mind of her own. Once you are born into her arms, she grips tight and never lets go. _Ever._ Resist her and you shall be driven mad from within to what has been taken from you.”


	18. talking 'bout a revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom delivers his acceptance speech at the Ministry of Magic. Harry is by his side.

“The thing about change is that when all is said and done, you can hardly remember what it was like before- that can be either a blessing or a curse, depending on your situation. All those memories, slipping effortlessly through a sieve. One moment, they’re there. And blink. The next moment, they’re gone, leaving only vestiges, an imprint, a teasing scent you’ve smelt somewhere before but can’t quite place.

But when change happens, you are unsure; at a standstill. The startling aspect of change is that we hardly know how to venture forth from what we know into the uncharted, murky waters of the unknown. It can be just a little daunting. It can be an adventure. It can be what you make it to be. So don’t try to resist it, or control it, just _go with the flow_ , as the old Muggle cliché says. Life, for us, is long, but opportunities for a revolution of thought are scarce.

We must band together, for a nation united is a nation strong. We shall face our enemies with fortitude, borne from the ashes of our determination. Lay the foundation to a truly peaceful empire, and coexist in harmony with our fellows. With the help of you, my fellow witches and wizards- yes, that includes you, Undersecretary Potter-, we shall cease to know the pain of war, disease, and hunger!

We are the United Magical Nations of the Kingdom, we are the children of Magic, and may we forever carve our glory into the very history of the earth! I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, as your Minister for Magic, do vow this! From this day forth, we shall lead our glorious Nations into the new dawn! All hail Magic!”


	19. hungry like the wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> watch out, Harry.

_The emotion floored him, leaving him a nervous, trembling wreck.’_

It was lust at its finest. Pure, unbridled desire- all for Tom Marvolo Riddle! The future Dark Lord! A psychotic maniac who had the straightest teeth and deepest of navy blue eyes…

Merlin! Was he a Veela? Perhaps a demon? The red eyes would make sense, then. No, he would resist the temptation that was Tom Riddle; even if it killed him.

He was sure it would. Riddle strode towards him with a calm, friendly smile and an unnervingly hungry glint in his ocean-blue eyes. ‘Shit, shit, shit. I will not survive this term unravished.’


	20. see what I see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort gives Harry a lesson on perception.

“The world is awash in all sorts of colors; different people view it in different lights. The colour of bloodshed could also serve as a compliment to gold and bravery, and the lush shades of emerald could as easily be encrusted on the silver dagger of cunning. There is no black and white. There aren’t even shades of grey. Reality does not change, but our perception of it does; everyone’s is different and trying to change that will do you no better than trying to extract all the salt from the sea without magic- a waste of time and effort.”


	21. at what price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Tom are betrayed.

Tom looks away with an unnameable emotion in his eyes, cigarette smoke from his mouth blowing into Harry’s face. It stings his eyes and he coughes violently to dispel the lingering, bitter taste of ashes in his mouth. He wishes Tom could erase it with a swipe of his tongue but there, Tom is looking at him again and that unameable emotion is gone. His face is smooth as stone, impassive and just as impenetrable.  
  
“Harry…” Tom’s lovely lips shape words but nonono Harry isn’t listening. He knows it, some part of him just knows what Tom is it isn’t good at all, in any way.  
  
“No _no_ _no_.” Harry is aware that he’s clasped his hands firmly over his ears to try to prevent what is inevitable.  
  
“Just don’t.” Harry finally rasps out. His throat has closed up and he has to practically force the words out.  
  
Tom gustily blows out a sigh, surprising Harry. It seems like he has broken Tom’s resolve by refusing to concede defeat. “I won’t.” Harry states determinedly.  
  
“You have no choice.” Tom’s voice is flat with no inflection. But Harry can hear the slight quaver and it scares him. It scares him so badly that he takes a step forward in order to touch Tom, comfort him. Tom has always been a tactile person with Harry.  
  
Tom shutters immediately and that just hurts Harry even more.  
  
“I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_.” He doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for but he knows it’s his fault.  
  
“No…” Tom looks angry all of a sudden and Harry cringes back expecting a blow that never comes. Tom moves forward suddenly and grabs Harry by the elbows to tug him closer.  
  
“What…?” Harry is flabbergasted. “Never apologize to me,” Tom states firmly. “Never cringe back from me or expect to be hit. And never, ever presume that anything is your fault, because it’s mine. All mine. I am the one who… who-“  
  
“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Harry nuzzles his face against Tom’s cheek and he relaxes, arms coming up to encircle Harry’s waist and fingers digging into Harry’s skin. Harry doesn’t utter a word of complaint.   
  
“Don’t. Just don’t. Let’s not play the blame game. I’m here, you’re here. That’s all we need.”  
  
“I’m nothing without you, Harry.” Tom whispers and Harry’s heart clenches. He wants to reach into the past and hurt every single one of those those motherfuckers who told Tom that he was nothing, useless, bastard.  
  
Because he wasn’t. He was more than Harry could ever want. “You’re my everything.”


	22. transform my tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't mad. They get even.

"It's you, it's you. It's all for you, everything I do." Tom whispers and that shatters all of Harry's defenses. He flings himself into Tom's arms and Tom catches him, hardly thrown off guard because this is something Harry always does.  
  
"I don't care if I sound selfish because I never had anything to be selfish over before I met you. You're mine, mine, mine and no one can take that away, do you understand? I don't give a fuck what the others say. They can rot in Tartarus. It's quite clear that they don't accept us, ever since-since-"  
  
" _Shhh_." Tom soothed him, one hand carding through Harry's hair and he quietens, nuzzling Tom's neck to keept himself from speaking. After a moment of silence Harry lifts his head, spearing Tom with a sharp look. "So what do we do now?" He asks as Tom settles him on his feet, hands smoothing over his shirt and brushing tears from his eyes. I'm not wearing glasses, Harry notes distantly.  
  
"We watch and we wait." Tom states grimly, crimson eyes burning firecely and one hand darts into his pocket to clench his wand. Harry's slim hand caresses the slim shaft of wood, marvelling over the feeling of sheer, unbridled power. Tom's magic hums through him, setting him alight.  
  
"I don't get _mad_ , darling, I get _even_." And Tom's lips are on his, his hand clenching Harry's wand and they're disappearing in a burst of flames.


	23. won't you lay your hands on me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's heart is aflame with the idea of revenge. Voldemort feeds the fire.

_'Kill them all.'_ The words felt slick in his mouth, smooth and unhesitant on Parseltongue. It was what they deserved, after all, for what they had done to him. There was no going back now, Harry knew that. He'd known the moment Voldemort had given him the ultimatum: a life for life. And truly, the Dursleys weren't worth it.   
  
'No,' Harry thought, listening to their screams and revelling in it despite the fact that his parents were probably rolling in their graves. 'They aren't worth it all. I deserve better. I deserve better.'  
  
 _'You deserve the world.'_ Cool arms wrapped around his torso and Harry leaned into Voldemort's embrace. 'And I shall give it to you.' They were whispered into Harry's ears, hot and heavy.   
  
 _'Just let go, Harry.'_ The arms tightened and Harry felt breathless, his world spinning around him and teetering back and forth on its axis.   
  
And he did. He closed his eyes and fell back, whirling into a dark abyss.


	24. gonna teach you tricks that would blow your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort shows Harry a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for pr0n. Enjoy.

It was always like this with Voldemort: a never-ending battle for dominance. That would be fine, if it weren’t for Harry always getting the short end of the stick… metaphorically speaking, of course. Because, well… he’d rather not get into that right  _now_.   
  
‘Submit?’ Harry hissed, hackles raised. ‘Never! Not to  _you_ , not to  _anyone_!’   
  
Voldemort snarled, moving so fast that his motions blurred as he threw Harry towards the wall and pushed him up against it with a strong forearm. All within the same breath and the time it took Harry to realise the magnitude of his words.

Fuck  _fuck_   **fuck**. Out of the frying pan and straight into the Merlin-damned fire. His luck really run the worst of lines on All Hallows’ Eve, didn’t it? Voldemort breathed right into his ear when he said ‘obeying is not the only thing you’ll do.’   
  
Gripping Harry’s hips possessively, he twined their bodies together and Harry let out a strangled moan. ‘Spread your pretty little legs for me, won’t you? Wrap let them around my waist and let me take you against this wall, hot and hard and fast. Just the way you like it- you’ll be begging for more by the time it’s over. Obeying is not the only thing you’ll do, oh no. You’ll be a slave to your pleasure and you’ll moan and plead and  _writhe_  against me. And when I’m done wih you, you’ll want nothing more than to be taken again and  _again_  and  **again**.’  
  
By the end of Voldemort’s little speech, Hardy was an incoherent wreck, shifting his hips upwards and downwards in pursuit of friction to soothe an ache he wasn’t even aware of in the first place. He was too hot, too sensitive, too tightly wound. All he wanted to do was to let Voldemort fuck him right then and there.  
  
But  _no_! He had his dignity, Merlin  _dammit_! Just because he took it up the arse did not mean that he would bow and scrape -or spread his legs for that matter- to this madman’s every whim.   
  
Resolve hardened, he tried to buck Voldemort off and only succeeded in making it worse for him. And better for Voldemort.   
  
‘Just. Give. In’ Each word was punctuated by another thrust and by the time Voldemort finished speaking, Harry was nothing bit a puddle of mush against the wall. His knees were shaking, unable to keep him up, and his hands were frantically gripping at Voldemort’s shoulders. ‘Fuck- oh, fuck. No, no,  **no**. I won’t I  _won’t_.’ And so he babbled until Voldemort became sick of it and hitched up his robes, carelessly banishing Harry’s clothing with a crook of his finger.   
  
‘What! Why do you-!  _Nmngh_.’ The sentence was cut off by the rush of sensation in his lower parts.  _Oh god_ , he thought dazedly as Voldemort gripped him by his arms and hoisted him up even further.  _It’s been a long time since we’ve done this._  
  
‘If you’re still able to think,’ Voldemort whispered in his ear, speech punctuated by the occasional harsh pant, ‘then I’m not doing this right.’  
  
He have a particularly harsh thrust and Harry’s head fell back, hitting harshly on the wood panelling of the wall behind him.   
  
Voldemort was really good at this sex thing, he mused, while being fucked up against the wall. Harry found that he quite liked this position. It slowed him to bestow sloppy kisses upon Voldemort’s neck and lips, while desperately bucking his hips as attempting to reach that wonderful magical place.


	25. show you my heart, show you my jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> their love was not simple in any sense of the word.

Their love was not gentle. Their love was not sweet. It was love in the only way that Tom and Harry knew how. It was rough, wild, passionate and hard and cruel and angry. They bled and bit and cursed and grappled at one another in fits of pique and jealousy. But in the end, it was Tom and Harry against the world.


	26. ready for the fight, and fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My head is bloody and broken, but unbowed.

"So, to be revered and feared and despised, is that my fate? They will give me not a moment of rest or reprise for the actions that have brought them their peace, their ten-year ceasefire because mark my words, there will be another. Another revolutionary unsatisfied with how the world has turned out to be an willing to change it, spiralling down into madness. And they do, I will not be there to save them again. With those words I have so marked my fate."


	27. smile for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> his eyes linger on all the places they shouldn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um... it's been a while? This is an old piece of work, from about... three, four years ago? this is all O ever got out of it

Lately, Harry had been noticing all the ~~right~~   _wrong_ things about Tom.

Like how the rays of light from the sun caught his pearly white teeth when Tom was smiling that smile that he reserved  _only_ for Harry. Or the way Tom’s fingers moved across the paper with a quill at hand, or the way they raked through his little-too-long-to-be-appropriate shoulder-length raven black hair. Or the way his lips puckered when he was trying to answer a particularly hard Arithmancy question. Or the way he...

_This cannot go on!_

Harry groaned, hitting his head on the desk purposefully, scaring a couple of first-year Hufflepuffs (who looked to be un-initiated) on a table behind the History section of the library who looked to be deeply engrossed in their Charms homework. Harry was lucky that Madam Quentin hadn’t caught him yet, defiling the library with his presence. Of course  _Tom_ , the smug bastard, could get away with anything with that charming smile of his-

No. No more.  _No more_ thinking about Tom. And his smile. Or his charm. Or the way the fifth-year Ravenclaws who were  _supposed_ to be all academic and  _not_  ditzy giggled when he strode-  _strutted_ past with that damn half-smile and his Prefect badge gleaming on his chest from where it was pinned on his robes.

It didn’t help that this summer, more than ever, Tom had been especially overprotective of Harry from bloody Eric Whaley and Billy Stubbs. It was not like Harry needed protection, only being a year -a  _year!-_ younger than Tom but there you go. The two boys from the orphanage had been on Harry’s case ever since he arrived there under mysterious circumstances when he was five, remembering nothing from before but darkness and pain and a fat, blond boy who  _greatly_ resembled Eric Whale-y as Harry had taken to immaturely calling him when he was six. Tom had tried and failed to conceal a smile at Harry’s words.

They had been best friends for years, and Tom didn’t make  _real friends_ easily, if not at all besides Harry. Harry didn’t want to mess it up by following some half-formed notion that Tom might (maybe, someday) care about Harry the way he cared about Tom. Perhaps Tom was incapable of loving, but that didn’t stop Harry from freely giving it to him. 

And damn if Tom wasn't a possessive bastard himself! He death-glared just about anyone who looked Harry’s way but  _unfortunately_ he could not return the favour because Tom’s minions- sorry,  _allies_ and  _connections_ would be upset. After all, Tom had a reputation to uphold as Hogwarts Golden Boy- no,  _Silver_ Boy because Charlus Potter was the school’s Golden Boy, being Quidditch captain (Chaser), Head Boy and president of the Founding Fathers’ Association of Nobility, proud member of the Slug Club and general all-round prat.

It didn’t help that he also resembled Harry greatly appearance-wise.

Harry was a member of the Slug Club, along with Tom himself, because of course anyone who sent as much time with Tom as Harry did had to be just absolutely  _brilliant_. Not too much luck there.


End file.
